


Spanish Inquisition

by AParselmouthsPatronous



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: BAMF Arthur, Blatant References to Monty Python, Fluff, Homophobia, Homophobic Character, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, MJN Air Is A Family, Martin Crieff Whump, Minor Violence, Protective Arthur, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 15:36:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1555451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AParselmouthsPatronous/pseuds/AParselmouthsPatronous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a prompt from my Creative Writing class; write a short story about a couple who's relationship is disgraced by society.<br/>Well, I sort of managed it.</p>
<p>In which Carolyn loses a bet, Arthur loses his temper, Douglas is a surprise fan of Monty Python, and Martin gains a little perspective.</p>
<p>Or, the time Douglas really should have knocked, and Martin indirectly gets beaten up as a result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spanish Inquisition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheSoulOfAStrawberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSoulOfAStrawberry/gifts).



 

Arthur knocked quietly on the hotel room door.

‘Skip? It’s me.’ He whispered softly, and was rewarded by its opening quickly, and being pulled inside by the person himself, who looked up and down the corridor furtively before closing the door behind him.

‘Arthur what are you doing here!?’ he hissed. ‘If Carolyn…’

‘Skip, it’ll be fine!’ Arthur insisted. ‘Douglas and Mum went down to the bar about half an hour ago, something about…I don’t know, probably something brilliant, though!’

‘But what if they come back!?’

‘That’s why I waited, see Skip!’ Arthur explained earnestly. ‘In case mum came back and I wasn’t there!’

‘Well…okay then…I suppose…if you’re sure…’

‘Skip.’ Arthur murmured, finally getting tired of the spiel. ‘ _Please_ shut up.’

Martin gulped.

They hadn’t been in their relationship long, but Martin already knew that he loved this side of Arthur, the one he didn’t show to others.

The side that was fiercely protective of ‘His Skip’ (even more so than Martin had thought possible form the younger man).

The side that was rougher than expected when it came to their relationship (but Martin loved it that way).

The side that now pushed him against the wall, kissing him fiercely, almost bruising him with the force of it, his size over Martin’s allowing him to tower over him, pushing him suddenly away from the wall and backwards towards the bed.

It had taken Martin a long time to convince Arthur that it was okay to use his size to push Martin around during sex, and that no, he wouldn’t hurt him, and if he did he was actually more likely to enjoy it, but once he had, even he’d been stunned as to how much they’d both enjoyed it. Arthur had never protested about his size over Martin’s again.

Just as Arthur started to move his focus down slightly, there came a sudden knock at the hotel room door.

‘Martin? Martin, are you in there? I need to talk to you about tomorrow’s flight plan.’

Martin cursed quietly. It was Douglas. Of _course_ it was Douglas.

‘Er…hold on a minute Douglas!’ Martin winced as his breathless voice came out much higher than it normally did.

‘Martin?’ Douglas asked in alarm, while Martin and Arthur looked around frantically for a place for the latter to hide. So far they’d managed to keep their relationship hidden from both Douglas _and_ Carolyn, but unless they acted quickly, it might not remain that way much longer.

‘Alright Martin, I’m coming in!’

‘No!’ Martin squeaked in alarm, just as Douglas burst through the door, stopping abruptly at the sight in front of him.

‘Ah.’

‘Douglas!’ Arthur panicked ‘This isn’t what it looks like!’

‘Oh? Well, what is it, then?’

‘Uh…uh…’

‘…I’m waiting, Arthur.’

‘Don’t bother, Arthur.’ Martin said wearily, his head falling backwards onto the mattress beneath him. ‘You’re still stood up. It won’t work.’

‘I’ll wait for you in the bar.’ Douglas said quietly, before quickly leaving the room and closing the door swiftly behind him.

It was not a request.

***

‘I’m _really_ sorry, Skip.’ Arthur apologised again.

‘It’s not your fault Arthur.’ Martin said, sighing slightly wearily.

‘No, but it is!’ Arthur replied miserably. ‘You said they might check on us, but I didn’t listen, and then…’

‘No, Arthur, listen to me. Did you hear me protesting? No. so stop blaming yourself.’ By now they had crossed the lobby and reached to door to the bar, so Martin gave him a quick kiss, and went to release his hand, but Arthur quickly pulled it back into his own.

‘No, Skip.’ He told Martin quietly. ‘I’m not ashamed.’

Martin felt his heart swell slightly, and gave Arthur another quick kiss, before squeezing his hand and pushing open the door.

Time to face the Inquisition.

***

Douglas was sat, surprisingly without Carolyn, in the corner, away from most of the other bar patrons, for which Martin was infinitely glad. There was a half drunk glass of what appeared to be whisky, but what Martin suspected was in actuality more likely to be apple juice on the glass in front of him, and he looked up at them as they entered, eyes flicking briefly to their joined hands, before returning to their faces. Martin swallowed hard.

‘Hello Martin, Arthur.’ Douglas drawled, and Martin flinched. He sighed.

‘For God’s sake, Martin, what do you think I’m going to do, stone you? If I did, I’d be a bit of a hypocrite, don’t you think?’

Martin blinked at him. Douglas sighed again.

‘I’m bisexual, Martin. Now sit down and stop gaping at me like a fish, _please_ , you’re starting to attract attention.

Martin blinked again, snapping his jaw shut suddenly, before taking an abrupt seat next-to Arthur, clenching their joined hands tightly between them.

‘I…didn’t expect that.’ Martin admitted sheepishly, and Douglas snorted.

‘No one ever expects the Spanish Inquisition!’ he muttered quietly, and then let out a small laugh. Martin felt too tense to join in.

‘Are you going to tell mum?’ Arthur asked Douglas quietly. Douglas sighed, but before he could reply someone cleared their throat loudly from behind them. Martin yelped loudly and fell out of his chair. Douglas smothered a laugh as he hurriedly picked himself back up, and turned round to look up into the formidable face of his boss.

‘Carolyn! Hi! We were just…’

‘Shut up, Martin.’ She said without looking at him, steely gaze fixed firmly on Arthur, who gulped slightly.

‘Not tell me _what_ , Arthur?’

‘It’s alright, Carolyn.’ Douglas cut in before either of the others could start talking again.

‘All that’s happened is that you owe me £20, don’t worry, nothing serious.’

‘Oh, really? And did the esteemed Captain and my buffoon of a son…’

‘Hey!’

‘…tell you this, or did you perhaps, as I suspect is indeed more likely, burst in on them in order to win the bet?’ she ignored the outburst, asking Douglas sternly. He waved his hand, gesturing between them vaguely.

‘Semantics!’

‘Wait, you _bet_ on us?’ Martin asked her incredulously, and she looked at him as if her were an idiot, or more accurately, as if he thought _she_ was.

‘Martin, did you really think you could keep it a secret? From Douglas and I? Martin, the only person I know who’s a worse liar than you are is Arthur!’

‘Hey!’

‘But…’ Martin spluttered, as Carolyn cut across him yet again.

‘Martin, I honestly don’t care who you _or_ my son dates – it is your business, not my own, and I don’t _ever_ want to hear about the details. _Ever._ However – and pay attention here, I’m going to spell this out for you in words of one syllable.’ She continued.

‘Oh, goody!’ Douglas enthused. ‘Go on, then.’

‘You. Do. Not. Hurt. My. Son. Or. I. Will. Hurt. You. Do you understand?’

‘Ooh, Carolyn, understand is three! Bad luck!’

Carolyn ignored Douglas as Martin nodded frantically at her. Arthur diverted his attention, squeezing his hand under the table, and as Martin turned to look at him, he thought he heard Carolyn mutter ‘At last!’ under her breath. He wondered to himself how obvious they really must have been.

***

They spent the evening in the bar, the four of them, laughing at various things, occasionally talking about their upcoming flights, and every so often Martin and Arthur would share a fleeting look of happiness and a smile, which would more often than not provoke mock gagging from Douglas, and small, secret smiles from both of them, as both he and Carolyn tried not to look too pleased for them. However, the pair of them wouldn’t have noticed them even if they had looked so releaved they were about the acceptance of their relationship from the two people, in both their opinion, who mattered most. Their family.

A while later, still encased in happiness, Martin went to stand, and Arthur looked at him enquiringly.

‘Don’t worry; I’m just off to the loo.’ He explained, hesitating slightly, before leaning down to kiss Arthur quickly, and then walking off across the room, ignoring the wolf whistle from behind him. He grinned as he left the room and rounded the corner towards the gent’s toilets. They really hadn’t minded at all!

On the way back, his eye was caught by a man stood skulking slightly in the shadows of the dim corridor, seeming to look straight at him.

‘Hello?’ he spoke cautiously. ‘Are you alright?’

The next thing he knew he’d been grabbed from behind and could see the fearless grin of the man in the shadows.

He swallowed nervously. Oh dear.

***

Arthur sat fidgeting nervously at the table. He’d seen a few men go the same way as Martin a few minutes ago, and he still wasn’t back. He looked over towards the door to the toilets again – it’d been five minutes, where was Skip? – and heard Douglas sigh at him.

‘Relax, Arthur. He said, sharing a somewhat amused look with Carolyn. ‘I know you’re a love-sick fool right now, as opposed to the ordinary fool that you usually are…’

He paused, expecting a protest, and looked slightly concerned when he didn’t get one.

‘…but really, Arthur, he hasn’t been gone for _that_ long…’ he continued, before being interrupted by a terse Arthur.

‘Five minutes, thirty eight seconds.’

Douglas blinked.

‘Fine, if you say so. But really, Arthur, I’m sure he’s fine, and…’

‘No.’ Arthur interrupted again. ‘He’s not. Something’s wrong.’

He left quickly, hastily followed by the other two, who had no time to say anything or stop him before he was gone, sweeping his way across the room far more easily than they would have ever thought possible of him.

***

Out in the hall, despite whatever Douglas had said, and despite the fact that everyone knew that First Officer Douglas Richardson was _always_ right, Captain Martin Crieff of MJN Air was decidedly _not fine._

He’d been pushed up against the wall by one of the thugs, who was now attempting to pull off one of his arms behind his back – or that’s what it felt like, at least – while the other continued to grin menacingly at him.

‘Please!’ he winced, hating how his voice cracked and went high with fear and pain as his arm was forced higher and higher up his back. ‘Please, why are you doing this!?’

The grin gained size.

‘Oh, we know all about your type.’ He whispered dangerously, in a low, oily voice. It had some sort of an accent, martin thought, trying wildly to distract himself from his current situation and the trouble that he knew he was in. Was it French? Or Italian? Martin wasn’t sure.

‘We saw you in there, holding hands with your… _boyfriend._ ’ He spat the word, as if it would poison him to keep it in his mouth any longer, a sneer disintegrating his face as he moved around Martin to his other ear.

Suddenly it came to him. Spanish, that was it. The accent was Spanish. Then, upon suddenly registering the words being spoken to him, Martin’s stomach jolted painfully. _Arthur._

‘If you hurt him, I’ll…I’ll…I’ll…’

‘Stutter at us?’ he snarked, while the one holding him laughed unpleasantly.

‘Oh, now I’m scared! Look, I’m shaking in my boots!’ he grabbed Martin’s arm from the other guy, giving him a temporary reprieve, before yanking it even higher up his back as the other guy moved away slightly. Martin stood on tiptoes in an attempt to compensate, and they both laughed again.

‘Go on then, _faggot_ , clearly you’ll need every inch!’ they laughed at the crude joke, and Martin realised that his only help of rescue was to yell for help, but when he opened his mouth to do so, a hand was quickly clamped over it.

‘Careful, now.’ The owner of said hand warned playfully. ‘We don’t want anyone else getting involved, now do we? Especially not that precious _b_ _oyfriend_ of yours, hmm? Wouldn’t you rather we just kept this between _us_?’

‘Not that he looked like he could do all that damage, really.’ He continued scornfully, his oily voice continuing to drip with every word. ‘No, I’d _definitely_ rather keep it between us.’ He stuck one of his fingers into Martin’s mouth in an attempt to antagonise him, and Martin bit down hard onto it in a rush of panic.

‘YAAH!’ the guy jumped backwards, holding his hand to his chest, releasing Martin from his hold temporarily, before he was caught again by the other guy. He fixed Martin with a wild glare.

‘Oh, now you’re for it.’ He promised, and Martin gulped. Maybe that hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

***

Arthur ignored those of his family following behind him, and focused instead on the one who currently wasn’t, focused only on the fact that he knew, somehow, that there was something wrong with _his Skip_. He strode across the room and burst through the doors, only to freeze when, upon doing so, he was greeted with the image of two men _hurting his Skip_ , who looked as if he was doing his best not to yell in pain as his arm was forced higher and higher up his back, while being pushed hard against a wall, by a man in a _horrible_ suit! Martin’s eyes met his as he entered, fearful and filled with small tears, and ignoring the sudden appearance of Douglas and his mum behind him, he let his anger at the scene build up inside of him.

‘Hey!’ he yelled at the guy, who had only just noticed him, so focused had he been on Martin, and then proceeded to sneer. He lent down to whisper something in Martin’s ear, who whimpered, and Arthur felt his anger soar even higher. ‘Hey!’ he yelled again, moving towards them, but as he did so, the man moved the arm holding Martin’s higher, and there was a sickening POP as it dislocated. Martin went very pale and still, before his eyes rolled up into his head as he passed out. The man threw him to one side, grinning, and then turned his gaze onto Arthur.

He didn’t have long to look, though, as next thing Arthur, who had the brief feeling he’s forgotten something before it faded to anger again, had his fist smashed into the man’s face, ignoring the stifled gasps of shock from behind him, sending the man reeling backwards, his companion, who Arthur hadn’t previously noticed, quickly fleeing as fast as he could at the sight.

Arthur shook his hand out slightly – that had really hurt! – but moved to go again as the man regained his balance and came towards him once more. However, before he could get anywhere even near to close to him, Douglas was there, quickly and efficiently dispatching him with a swift kick and a strike to the back of the neck. Arthur took the opportunity to run over and drop down next-to Martin.

‘Skip!’

He shook his boyfriend’s arm slightly – the one that was still functional, that is – and Martin groaned slightly and opened his eyes.

‘Arthur?’

He groaned again and his eyes slid shut, before he forcefully opened them again and got Arthur to help him to his feet. He swayed slightly and Arthur went to catch him, accidently knocking Martin’s bad arm as he did so, bringing tears to his eyes once again.

‘Oh, Skip!’ he said ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’ He pulled Martin into a hug as he started to cry, ignoring the somewhat awkward presences of Douglas and Carolyn, and let the events of the last few minutes – was that really all it was? – catch up to him.

Once Martin’s quiet sobs had died out, Douglas moved over to them slowly.

‘Martin.’ He spoke quietly, as if frightened of startling him. ‘Martin, that needs to be fixed, sooner rather than later.’ He gestured to Martin’s arm, dangling limply at his side. ‘If you want I can…I mean, I know how to…’

Martin nodded, answering the unasked question wordlessly, and moved towards Douglas slightly, keeping a firm hold of Arthur’s hand with his other one.

‘On three, alright?’ Douglas asked, looking him firmly in the eye, as Martin nodded once again.

‘Okay Martin. One, Two…’

CRUNCH

Martin let out a small whimper as tears once more filled his eyes as Douglas pushed his arm back into place, and Arthur fixed him with a reproving look. Douglas was slightly shocked – he’d never seen Arthur like this before – and Martin quickly picked up on it.

He squeezed Arthur’s hand lightly to draw his attention.

‘No, s‘okay.’ He slurred slightly, and the glare lessened slightly.

‘Thank you, Douglas.’ Martin met his gaze, eyes puffy and red from crying; daring him to mock, but Douglas just nodded his head slightly in return.

‘No one ever expects the Spanish Inquisition!’ Martin joked, trying to raise their sombre spirits slightly, and Douglas let out a small chuckle.

‘Quite, Martin. And we certainly didn’t expect _them_.’

‘I’m surprised we didn’t attract any attention with all that noise.’ Martin remarked quietly, trying to fill the silence of the small corridor, and Carolyn spoke up for the first time, looking uncharacteristically worried from her post by the door.

‘I sent them away. It was all over by then, anyway, so much good it did us, and I figured you wouldn’t want much of an audience.’ She addressed Martin uncomfortably, before turning quickly to her son.

‘Arthur, is your hand alright?’

‘What?’ Martin turned quickly to Arthur. ‘What’s wrong with your hand?’

‘Nothing, Skip.’ Arthur hastened to reassure him. ‘I just…’

‘You just decked a man, is all, Arthur.’ Douglas snorted, and Arthur looked slightly abashed.

‘Yes, well…’

Martin took Arthur’s bad hand gently in his good one, the other still hanging stiffly at his side, and turned it over.

‘Hmm. Thumb?’ He asked, looking up, concerned, when Arthur groaned in realisation.

‘Oh _that’s_ what it was! I wasn’t sure if it was that or one of the fingers! Er…it was inside, sorry Skip.’

‘Oh, Arthur! We’ll have to get you checked at the hospital.’

‘And you, Martin.’ Douglas reminded him sternly.

‘Yes yes, and me. Oh Arthur.’ He said again.

‘I’m sorry, Skip, it’s just, he was hurting you, and he, and I, oh God, oh God, oh God, I, I…’

Martin pulled Arthur into a hug much like the one he himself had just received, and began muttering to him softly.

‘It’s okay, it’s all okay, Arthur, it’s fine, we’re fine. He’s gone, and we’re fine. We’re both fine.

And stood back here, with their family, in a bubble of warmth, it seemed that they were.

No thanks to the Spanish Inquisition.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hope that wasn't too confusing! This is my first story both in the fandom and on the Archive, although I have other stuff in other fandoms over on FF.net under the same pen-name if you enjoyed my writing style :) Obviously, I own neither Cabin Pressure or Monty Python, but enjoy them greatly despite this. Please leave comments telling me how you think I did! :D


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